Just ahead, I sighted the Demon soldiers in the onyx studded helmets. Those I had seen when flying with the Black Dragon, only now visible in the heart of the fog. The Mind Talents who had crafted the mist, their eyes aglitter as waves of crimson light swirled from their palms. Yet their faces were strained and beaded with sweat.
They were as tired as we were, which meant they could break.
Hope flared in me as I gestured to them. “Liwei, I will attack the Mind Talents. Hold the enchantment here.”
Before I finished speaking, his power had swelled to shoulder my burden. Wind rolled through the air, a storm breaking upon the Celestials.
An arrow of Sky-fire hurtled from my hand, plunging into a Mind Talent. He screamed once, his body convulsing as his skin crackled with light. As he fell, the mist streaming from his hands dissipated. I did not pause—no time for either triumph or remorse—my cloud soaring through the air as I shot another and, then, a third. The Mind Talents cried out, pointing at me as torrents of their magic leapt my way. My shield trembled before it shattered, but another sprang up in its place, golden-bright.
“Xingyin, watch out!” Liwei called out.
I nodded in thanks, another arrow already streaking from my fingers. The Demon ducked, but my next shot took her in the shoulder. As I aimed at the fifth, the Mind Talents broke rank and fled.
The mist lingered in their wake. Yet more Celestials were roused from their daze, more of them joining us now. My hair was whipped free from the last of its coils, my black dress fluttering wildly as our gale strengthened—howling as it sped across the heavens, sweeping each corner of the sky. The mist thinned, its crimson lights fading like stars in the dawn, before ebbing into oblivion. The sky had the calm of a tempest just passed, as our clouds rolled toward the safety of the Celestial Kingdom.
We were safe, the Demons gone. But my pulse still raced, my breaths coming in quick bursts at the thought of what awaited me in my audience with the emperor. My options were rapidly diminishing. Now that the generals knew I had the pearls, I must either relinquish them to the emperor, or outrightly defy him by refusing. An agonizing choice, if even a choice at all. Either one would be a betrayal, a loss of something infinitely precious—whether my mother’s freedom or the dragons’。 Even worse was the fear that the emperor would punish my mother further for my defiance. Or that he would wrest the pearls from me by force, just as he had ordered me to take them.
My head pounded. If only I could safeguard both! Such a thing was impossible, unless . . . there was some way to fulfill my bargain without harming the dragons. An idea formed in my mind, frail and new. Wild and undoubtedly dangerous.
“Xingyin,” Shuxiao called out, as she halted beside me. “Let’s go.”
“I can’t,” I replied. “Not yet.” I did not say more, I dared not reveal my plan—if it could even be called one, more a haphazard string of ideas and guesses. Such information would endanger her, placing her in an untenable situation—one I was plunging toward myself—torn between my loved ones and my honor.
“Will you do something for me?” I asked her somberly.
“Anything.”
“Don’t tell them I didn’t go back. Spread the word that you lost sight of me in the battle.” Perhaps this might delay arousing the emperor’s suspicions.
“Is that all? I was hoping you might give me an actual challenge,” she snorted.
“Everything about me is a challenge these days. But if things don’t go as planned, maybe you can think of a way to restrain His Celestial Majesty’s anger?” I spoke in jest, trying to conceal my unspoken fear.
She paused, searching my face. “Stay safe. I will do what I can,” she said finally.
“Thank you” was all I said, though there was so much more left unspoken. As she flew toward the Celestial Kingdom, she turned around once, her hand lifted in a wave.
“Xingyin, my father expects you.”
I looked away from Liwei, brushing the hair from my forehead, as I gathered the courage to tell him, “I can’t surrender the dragons’ pearls to your father. I gave them my word.”
He did not speak at first, his eyes so dark and solemn. “What will you do?”
I hesitated. Dare I trust him with this? Did he want the pearls for his father? And if so, would he try to stop me? But as I looked into his face, alight with the warmth that haunted me still—I knew my worries were false. He might argue with me, he might try to dissuade me, but he would never betray me.